


His Sinister Smile

by louvreangel



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 22:17:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louvreangel/pseuds/louvreangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One Shot. AU and slightly OOC. Dark!Sherlock and Mousy Molly. - After the fall Sherlock changed in a bad way. He became dangerous and harmful. But Molly liked it. She just liked him anyway. -M for graphic violence and sex. Don't say I didn't warn!</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Sinister Smile

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: English is not my native tongue so please ignore my grammar mistakes if there are any.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but this fanfiction. All rights go to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, BBC and Steven Moffat.

_**Molly's POV** _

There was something weird in his eyes that made me jump out of my seat and back up till I was pinned against the wall. He was walking right towards me, not breaking his deadly glares to my way. I knew I probably did or said something wrong but I had no idea of what it was. I could see the fire in his eyes and it looked dangerous. I was stupid to have gotten up from my seat. I should have just sat there, wait for him. At least then I wouldn't have been pinned against this stupid wall, where I had no espace whatsoever. I sighed and closed my eyes as he came, punched the wall behind me, his face inches away from mine. I could feel his breath on my face, but that didn't make me look up at him. I was scared. He was scary.

" _Molly Hooper_." He hissed at me. He was gritting his teeth. "What _the fuck_ where you thinking?"

I was still looking at the ground when his big hand covered my neck, pushing my head slightly to the wall behind me so that I could look at him. Because I had no choice, I looked right into his eyes. What I saw scared me more. Violence. I saw violence in those beautiful ocean-blue eyes. He looked like he was about to squeeze my neck a little bit more and suffocate me to death. And I knew he was capable of doing that. Just like he proved that to me a few days ago, in the living room.

"I—I don't know what you—you're talking a—about." I managed to find my voice eventually. But my answer made him angrier.

"Stop lying to me!" He yelled at me.

I saw from the cornor of my eye that his other hand was clenched into a fist. "Please Sherlock, _please_. I am scared." I begged him. I knew he wouldn't give a damn but I still begged him with all my might. "I am _begging_ you, please don't hurt me. My arm still hurts and my leg still bleeds everyday when I bandage it. Please. You've given enough harm to me. I love you, so why do you do this to me?" I closed my eyes, knowing that he would get angrier and hit me. So I closed my eyes tightly. I hoped he wouldn't hit me in the face. Instead, I heard him sigh and let go of my neck. I slowly opened my eyes, still scared of his previous behaviour.

"Then I hope you have a good explanation for why you left Bart's today." He narrowed his eyes.

I sighed in relief. "I didn't leave Bart's on my own will, Sherlock. Mike, I mean Mr. Stamford gave me a sick day, that's all. I insisted on staying but he wouldn't let me. He said that I was working so hard so I needed a day off. I swear I was going to tell you about this when you got home. I didn't know you would go to Bart's before coming home." I explained, feeling more relaxed then before. Sherlock rolled his eyes as he huffed. At least he never questioned my sincerity. Well, I was telling him the truth anyway. What I mean is, he always believed me. He always does. Which is great because otherwise he would slap me every single day, for something I did without telling him. I was about to ask him whether he was hungry or not but he cut me curtly with his lips crashing mine. He was suddenly kissing my lips, cheeks, jawbone, neck… I felt dizzy for a moment when he sucked my neck and licked it, leaving a wet feeling on my very sensitive neck. And somewhere else too.

"Sherlock." I whispered for him to stop, to let me breathe. I was out of breath with his sudden kisses on my skin. But when he licked my pulse, I giggled. It was tickling me. I barely managed to say anything when he put his arms around me and pulled me up a little bit. My legs instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist, giving him an easier entrance. I felt him smile while he was still kissing my neck. No matter what happened, no matter what he said, at the end of the day I would always find myself in his arms. He would slap me, punch me, kick me, insult me… But my weakness would always come before all these. My weakness was him. His curly coral black hair, his ocean-blue eyes, his beautiful silk-like skin and of course his big, calloused hands that always played the violin. Sometimes I think he's playing with me like he's playing with his violin. He always gets angry when he cannot play a song and he always plays it harder when he's got something going on in his mind palace. And he always would get angry with me and he would always fuck me harder when he got something going on in his mind palace. He would never think of my feelings, my emotions… Yet again, stupid me, would always jump right into his arms when he wanted me to. And today was the same. But the thing was, I always knew he wished no harm to me. He would act so harsh to me, yes, but he would of course never kill me. Or attempt to kill me. I was precious to him even though he would never mention that. Or show that. Okay, I am pathetic. I'm living in a dream world where I'm the queen and he is the king. The real world was, I was the maid being used and he was the master using me. Yes, that was the real world I never accepted.

"What are you daydreaming about while I'm shagging you?" Sherlock asked me. I suddenly realised that he was actually inside me, thrusting in and out. I was so used to it that I made no sound, not even a single moan coming out of my mouth. And I knew how he liked me to squeak under him.

"I'm sorry." I said and started crying, not even trying to hold my tears back. Sherlock stopped for a moment, staring at me with wide eyes.

"What's up _now_?" Damn, he was annoyed. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his lips. "Nothing. It just hurt a little bit." I lied. It totally didn't hurt. But it didn't give me pleasure either. He narrowed his eyes and stopped, getting out of me with a quick move.

"You're not fun when you are not screaming my name. Especially when you don't get wet for me." He zipped his trousers as he turned around to walk out of the room. He was leaving me behind, just like that. Just like everytime he did.

"I'm really sorry Sherlock. But I just… I can't…"

"You can't _what_?" He turned around to face me, his voice was hoarse and his face held no emotion at all. It was getting scary again.

"I can't do this anymore." I finished my sentence. I held my head up, trying not to look as pathetic as I normally was. I had to be brave. "You keep hitting me whenever you want, then you have sex with me and leave me alone in bed and then… You act like nothing has happened between us! You've been using me long enough. I am _tired_."

**_Third Person POV_ **

Sherlock, for the first time, actually looked at her. She had purple circles under her bloodshot eyes, she had a big bruise on her right arm where Sherlock slapped her yesterday and she lost exactly four pounds in a week. And from the look of it, she kept talking to her mom on a daily basis which she never used to do back in the day. She also wore the jumper with cheries which Sherlock hated but she probably did it without realising. In the end, Molly looked tired, in need of comfort from people around her. But she only had Mary and her mother who she could talk. And Mary was dealing with her pregnancy so she couldn't call her and nag about her own problems. Thoughtful mousy little Molly, Sherlock thought, how weak and vulnurable.

"I thought you liked it rough." He said and smirked at her.

Molly's eyes opened wide. "Liking rough doesn't mean I like being beaten up Sherlock!" she yelled at him. even though she was scared to hell, this time, she didn't care. In the end, she would always be beaten up by Sherlock anyways. That's when she noticed all that anger boiling inside her. She was sick of this bullshit. He had no right to treat her like trash, none at all. And she did nothing to deserve any of this. "Actually, you know what? I'm breaking up with you." She said and crossed her arms on her chest. "Since this is my house, pack your things and leave right now, Sherlock. I don't want you around me anymore."

_**Sherlock's POV** _

_How dare she? Well, well. Our mousy Molly became the brave dog, huh? She has to learn her manners better_. She said she didn't want me around her anymore so I had to teach her a lesson. I slapped her in the face as hard as I could and watched her as she fell to the ground with a loud thud. She moaned, totally in pain. I smirked as I kneeled down beside her.

"You never, _ever_ tell me what to do, Dr. Hooper." I was angry. I was so angry that I could kill her right there right that second. But I didn't. Because damn, I had feelings for her. She was my precious little toy that I couldn't throw away. She was like a Barbie doll for me. I could undress her wherever I wanted, I could touch her whenever I wanted and she would obey me, she would do anything I wanted her to do. Even though she did that get out of my house speech to me a minute ago, she knows she will regret it eventually. I am the only thing she cannot resist.

"Sherlock, please. Stop." She was begging me now. Good. She was learning a little bit.

"Now now… Will you do as I say, Dr. Hooper?" I asked her. She had no idea of what I had in mind. She was crying while talking to me.

"Yes. Yes I will. Just, stop."

"Okay darlin, then go to the bed and wait for me." I said and helped her get up, as a gesture of my goodness.

_**Molly's POV** _

I had no choice but to obey him. Or he would hit me again. Again. Again. Again. _God, please stop him!_ I couldn't hold my tears anymore but I didn't want him to hear it either. I was trying to cry silently. But I knew he heard me. I could almost see that sinister grin on his beautiful face. Why did I still refer his anything as beautiful? What has this man done to me? I was weaker, fooler and emptier than before. I had nothing but him in my mind. I only remembered his body and how to open up deadbodies to examine them. I became weaker as he became a horrible person. The Sherlock I knew wasn't like this. But after the fake-fall… After he faked his death and I helped him… He completely changed. He should have been grateful yet he was not grateful. Not even the slightest.

I followed him to the bedroom where he immediately got rid of my tshirt. I froze on my place, not moving one bit. But then he did what he shouldn't have done. He kissed me. With his kiss, my mind went blank like always. With his kiss, my body went on fire. With his kiss, my heart started beating faster. I liked it. And damn, how much I liked it when he kissed my pulse. He got us both on top of the mattress. I was unbuttoning his shirt, also cursing myself for doing it. My inner self was having a big fight and it was the biggest dilemma I've ever had in my entire life. It was either being in the arms of the man I loved or running away from this psychopath forever. My heart of course chose the first one and my body relaxed under his touch. His fingers were drawing circles on my belly as his other hand made its way to my thighs. With a quick move, he removed my underpants and also his trousers, throwing them to the floor. I chuckled when he slid a finger inside me, also cursing myself for my stupidity. I wasn't supposed to enjoy this. Yet, after a long fight with myself, I just stopped caring. I left all my sentiment locked up in my heart and gave in to his beautiful body, kissing his bare shoulders. When he slid two more fingers inside me, I moaned and bit his shoulder a little bit. He laughed and continued. I was kissing his neck when he slowly lowered his body to the level of my thighs and I opened my legs wide for him, wanting more and more every second. I was wet and he enjoyed it. He licked my clit and started sucking my juice as I bit my lip, remembering how good he was at this. Before I could say or do anything, he came up again, this time biting my right nipple. I screamed with pleasure. Then he went on to the other nipple, sucking and biting it as I kept screaming, mostly cursing. He looked like he was quite enjoying it. When his cock finally touched my entrance, I sighed in relief. That's when I felt his hand on my chin. I didn't notice my eyes were closed. I looked up at him and saw nothing. His eyes, his face held no emotion. He didn't smile, he didn't say anything. He just wanted me to look at him. He wanted me to look at him while he fucked me. And I let him. I moaned when he entered me. He was hard in me that I couldn't help but moan everytime he thrusted in. He was doing it harder than normal but I didn't care. It felt so good. When his hand squeezed my boob I arched my back to him, giving him better access to all of my body. He could have me the way he wanted. For that moment, I didn't care. Our sweaty bodies were crashing each other as I put my hands behind his back, feeling his muscular body underneath my little hands. But when he thrust into me like he was going to tear me up and keep fucking the bed, I scratched his back in pain with my nails. Then I noticed what I did.

"I'm sorry." I whispered. He was probably going to do something to punish me. Instead, he laughed at me and kissed me passionately, biting my bottom lip.

"I quite enjoyed it Molly. You have my permission to do it again, anytime." I sighed. He finally called me by my name. That meant he wasn't angry anymore. We had sex for what felt like an eternity for me but when we both came at the same time, I felt like it was one of the best orgasms I've ever had. I was satisfied and he seemed to be satisfied too. We were lying on the bed, my head on his chest. He was again drawing circles on my back when I looked up at him and kissed his lips.

"Why can I not let go of you?" I asked him. Stupid me.

"Because you're Molly. You cannot live without me." He answered. He sounded like a dickhead but no. He was actually just telling me the truth. I shook my head and smiled. Despite everything, I still loved this man. And I hated myself for that with all my might. "You're mine Molly. And I will never let you go. Do you understand?" His eyes were narrowed and he looked damn serious. I knew he was serious. There was something sinister about the way he said that but I didn't care. Tonight, I really didn't care about anything. Though I knew I was going to regret everything in the morning.

"Yes, I understand." I said as I put my head on his chest again, slowly drifting away to a peaceful sleep. And I got no idea whether I imagined it or not but I heard him say I love you before I drifted away. Well, it was probably my imagination because Sherlock Holmes would never say he loved me. Because he didn't love me. And he was never going to. So what do you think?

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_**This is my first time writing a dark fanfiction so pleaseee be nice! I hope you like it. Thanks a lot for reading (:** _

_**xoxo Louvreangel** _


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